


get more groceries, get eaten

by badbadnotgood



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbadnotgood/pseuds/badbadnotgood
Summary: Five days of Dan at University, feat. Phil.





	get more groceries, get eaten

Monday starts off, frankly, atrociously.

Tort Law alone is enough to royally piss on anyone’s Monday morning, but Dan gets the added treat of a freezing cold shower, courtesy of his shitty accommodation.

Furious and cold, he slips back into his room and throws on whatever clothes hit his face first when he opens the wardrobe.

He cleans his teeth; his own miserable, Monday morning reflection making him feel worse.

He sits at the breakfast bar with his cereal, alone, shivering from the cold droplets of water running down his neck and feeling sorry for himself.

His phone screen tells him it’s 8:15AM, and the walk to the lecture hall is about fifteen minutes give or take, so at least he doesn’t have to rush breakfast and give himself indigestion or something.

He’s mostly looking forward to a morning text from Phil. It’s sad and awfully dependent, but not much else manages to drag Dan out of bed in the mornings.

Phil sends one every morning, like a small gift. Again, it’s a travesty that Phil is probably the only reason Dan hasn’t packed up and left yet. He’s homesick and calls his grandmother excessively, and his flatmates are frankly unapproachable and absent from the social area (the kitchen) at all reasonable times.

Not that Dan is eagerly anticipating awkward small talk with people he’ll be sharing a microwave with for the next eight months.

So he has Phil. Phil, who fills the void where _home_ and _family_ isn’t when Dan’s at university.

Manchester is a nice city, though. He goes for walks, he sees Phil. Just about functions. It’s mostly nice because he has Phil.

*

Tuesday is an improvement.

His shower is delightfully warm and he even has time to make his hair look half decent _and_ enjoy a morning coffee.

He replies to Phil’s morning text and lets himself be happy.

His morning seminar group is split into pairs by their module tutor, and Dan quickly shifts the desire for imminent death when he’s paired with a nice girl he usually sees near the front of lectures, burning a hole into her notepad with the speed of her note-taking. He’s intimidated by that and how pretty she is; dark skin, her hair twisted into a bun and maybe the nicest smile Dan has ever seen on a human being.

Dan feels semi-useful when they manage to complete their task.

He even takes a trip to the library, which is only midly horrific. He walks up and down the Law section and tries not to think about people probably watching him, knowing he has no idea what he's doing or looking for. Every book he needs to loan out is already gone, because apparently people are organised at university and take out what they need _before_ they need it?

And like fuck is he paying hundreds of pounds he doesn't have on some books. 

"Potentially illegal PDF files it is," he whispers to himself.

 *

Wednesday is the day he sees Phil.

“The idea of dropping out is positively tantalising.”

They’re at Phil’s flat watching films and working their way through his tin of biscuits. Dan’s definitely happier now than he’s been so far this week, slouched into Phil’s side with Phil’s fingers running through his hair and brushing at the skin behind his ear.

“You said this last week, but you worded it differently,” Phil wonders.

“There’s a common trend and it’s that I might not like University.

How the bloody hell did you cope?”

Phil chuckles into Dan’s hair. “I liked it. A lot. See, you picked the wrong course, dummy.”

Dan huffs. “Wasn’t really thinking about the pleasantness of the course, just picked something that would get me a good job. Pissing it away so far.”

“That’s it, though, why would you go into something you’re not passionate about?”

That's easy for Phil to say, he thinks. All talent and confidence to set his mind on what he wants and not what's expected of him.

“Think I’ve just about lost interest in most things,” Dan admits.

“Just think about what you enjoy, what makes you happy. Go from there. Don’t do something that makes you unhappy, Dan.”

Dan thinks on it, barely. “Not sure,” he decides. “I like being here, in this flat. Because you’re in it. You’re not in any of my lectures of seminars, so why would I like those?”

“I mean, you don’t have to love them. You can find them interesting enough to attend them and absorb all the information you can. At a healthy rate, that is.”

Dan shrugs. “They feel so lonely and redundant. And my bloody lecturers never reply to my emails!”

“Maybe they’re busy,” Phil suggests.

“Wish I could be too bloody busy to help people already fifteen grand in debt.”

“I understand your frustrations,” Phil says. “Are you at least making friends?”

“I’m—wait, don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… my mother.”

“Okay, am I not helping?”

“Phil, the very last person I want you to remind me of is my mother.”

*

Dan leaves later on, because life is cruel and unjust. Phil insists on walking him home, though, which Dan doesn’t argue against.

They kiss outside his front door, a bit risky considering one of his flatmates could walk out any second, but Dan can’t say he cares right now. He’d risk that for all the Phil he can get.

Dan really, really wants to invite him in, but Phil has work in the morning and going down  _that_ rabbit hole is a bit much for a weekday. He can wait.

“I feel bad that you have to walk back home by yourself. Do you not want to book a taxi?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s not that far,” he says softly, slipping his hands into Dan’s, and god, Dan curses his life for making him leave this to return to his gulag of a flat. “The walk was really nice. I always like walking at night. Was even better with you there.”

Dan’s stomach is in pleasant knots and he lets his smile burn his cheeks. “Are you free at the weekend?”

Phil looks like he doesn’t even think on it. “I could be. Sunday. Just for you.”

“Alright to cope with me for a whole day?”

“Definitely. We could go out for food somewhere in the early afternoon before places close, if you want. Or just stay in my flat.”

“I can’t really afford—“

“I’ll pay,” Phil interjects, and Dan opens his mouth to protest but Phil cuts him off, “No, really, I want to. I’m definitely in a good enough financial position to take you out for food, Dan. Even if I wasn’t I would want to.”

“I feel like you’re… looking after me.”

“Just think of it like this, you’ve had a bad week and deserve something nice at the end of it. I just happen to be involved.”

“Okay,” Dan smiles.

*

Thursday is busy, and Dan takes it as it comes. Lecture, lecture, seminar, tutorial, far too many printed PDFs.

He texts Phil, thinks about Phil, thinks about packing his bags and moving to Phil’s. The usual.

He calls his grandma later in the day.

“Surely you’re enjoying meeting new people?” she asks. The sound of her voice takes some of the heaviness away from his brain.

“Yeah,” Dan says. He does find it hard to be enthusiastic about potentially making friends when he’s fixated on one person and one person only.

“Dan,” she says carefully, “you know you can call me whenever you need. I’m always here, love.”

Dan feels the familiar lump in his throat that comes with every phone call with his grandma as of late.

“Love you,” he manages.

“I love you too, dear,” she says easily. “It will get better, Dan. Make sure you get a hot meal down you and some sleep, please. Look after yourself.”

“I will,” he promises.

Dan keeps to his word. The kitchen is empty when he makes his food (within an inch of its life), which isn’t a surprise.

He eats, plays Halo, texts Phil. Deliberately doesn’t think about all those PDFs he printed off earlier.

*

Dan’s trying this revolutionary new thing of being kind to himself out.

On Friday, he decides he wants to give uni a fair chance.

He’s out the door for every lecture, bypasses the talons of coffee, and focuses on his work.

He reads through his PDFs, highlighting important points that might come up in exams and tries his very best to funnel the information into his brain. It’s mildly successful, but Dan has the courage to feel proud of himself.

He phones Phil as a treat.

“I’m giving it a go,” Dan says.

“Hm?” Phil says. “You’re giving university a go?”

“Yes,” Dan says. “I want to try. I was also thinking about Youtube, you know. I mean, I know it’s only a hobby. For me.”

“You like making videos,” it’s not a question.

“Yes.

I’ll give it some thought. Keep at this uni thing and maybe make videos to keep myself sane.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Dan.”

“ _You_ make me happy,” Dan says.

“You make me happy, too. You deserve even more than me, though, Dan.”

“I love you,” Dan says.

There’s a beat of silence on the other end. Dan’s stomach roils.

“I love you, too,” Phil tells him. “And I’m here for you in whatever you decide to do.”

“What if I dropped out?” Dan challenges. “What if it gets too much? And if I disappoint my family?”

“Then it happens,” Phil says easily. “And you won't disappoint your family. You’re so much more than what’s expected of you.”

He misses Phil. He loves Phil. He’s young, naïve, maybe an idiot, but he also knows his own mental health and when something is damaging it. He thinks about his grandma telling him how things will get better. How, it’ll get easier, and this is just the standard homesickness that everyone gets when they’re on their own for the first time.

“I think—I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know yet,” Phil says. “It’s a good form of procrastination, if you want to look at it that way.”

Dan huffs out a laugh. “Ideally, it should be perfect for me.”

“Give it a go,” Phil says. “Let yourself have the experience.”

“And if I don’t want it?”

“You can have whatever you want, Dan. If this doesn’t work out, then move onto the next thing.”

Dan smiles to himself. “Can I stay over tomorrow?”

“You don’t even need to ask, you spoon.”

Dan finds it easier to drift into sleep that night, like a small weight has been lifted. He falls asleep thinking of Phil, of his videos. The future of his own channel. Making more videos with Phil.

It’s a nice trade for the existential questions that he loses sleep over.


End file.
